Rolls Royce vs. Don Barta "Bull" vs. James Best

[Public Enemies]

(REFERENCES):
Rolls Royce's contract: gahwo.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=rpcontracts&action=display&thread=11650

Don Barta Bull's contract: gahwo.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=rpcontracts&action=display&thread=11674
Sabrina (Manager) contract: www.gahwo.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=rpcontracts&action=display&thread=10998

James Best's contract: gahwo.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=rpcontracts&action=display&thread=11496

BARTA BULL'S KEYS TO THE MATCH:
Rolls Royce: Gold
Don Barta Bull: Red
Sabrina: Purple
James Best: Green
Referee: Orange
"Big" Al Mulligan: Beige
Collin "Fuzz" Jennings: Teal
Charlie Coors: Baby Blue

---

"Welcome back folks, we're just about to start our next match after that fantastic 'Barbed Wire Ladder Match' between the Unknown and James Chaos."

"That was one horrific match I'll tell ya, Al."

"Next up we have a triple threat match featuring a trio of newcomers, you could say, to GHW. The match features Rolls Royce, Barta Bull, and James Best."

"Yeah, Al. All these guys really have something to prove tonight. You never know, this could be a good one for Blood Runs Cold."

The spotlights guide their way back to the ring, shining on Charlie Coors.

"Ladies & gentleman, the following is a triple match and set for one fall."



"Deep Inside" by KoRn begins to play throughout the arena.

"Making his way to ring, accompanied by Sabrina, weighing in at 262 pounds, he is El Toro de El Paso, Barta Bull!"

Barta Bull steps in between the ropes and bows to the crowd. He takes off his brim hat and flings it toward the fans like a Frisbee.

Sabrina makes her way to the announce table. She takes a seat next to "Big" Al Mulligan.

"Ladies & gentleman, it's seems we'll be joined by the lovely Sabrina tonight! Someone get a headset for this nice young lady!"

A studio staff member scurries over to the announce table.

"Thanks. How are you Al?"

"I'm great, thanks for asking."

"Hello Sabrina."

"How do you feel about Barta Bull's chances tonight?"

"What chances? Don will win. There's not a doubt in my mind."

(TBCD by James and/or Rolls)

(edit: I forgot my Sabrina! )

(edit #2: James Best's link broken, fixed

(edit #3: Added Tron ;D)

[Rolls Royce]

The crowd is disgruntled but pleasued with the return of Barta Bull while the Bull himself is visibily restless, eager to get his return match underway. Though they are covered by his long locks, the eyes of Barta Bull tell a story of a man determined to gain a victory on a day which induces plain and bloodshed. Blood indeed runs cold, and on the day of December 5th, he was more than determined to prove it.

The attention of the spectators is suddenly turns to the entryway, as the velvet curtains begin to jerk. Out comes a red carpet, which tumbles down the ramp and ends a the ring. Following the red carpet, is an unfamiliar man draped in a black and white tuxedo, holding a microphone in hand. After taking a moment to survey the crowd, he cuts the electricity with the proverbial knife, speaking into GHW mic.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, my name is Lynol Baxter, and it is with great adulation, that I introduce to you, the Next New Age Champion."

"This is a man, who started with nothing, and fought tooth and nail to get into the position that he is in."

"This is a man, who is head and shoulders better than all you. A man who when face with adversity, overcomes it. A man, who when faced with the option of being mediocre, goes to great lengths to be awesome."

"Ladies and Gentlemen, standing at six feet, three inches tall, and weighing in tonight at two hundred and ten pounds... Hailing from Philadelphia Pennsylvania... I give to you, The Natural Disaster, The Master of Magnificence, The Urban Legend, and The Greatest...."

"ROLLS ROYCE!"

On cue "The Best Out" by Dipset begins blaring over the P.A. system, causing the arena lights, to quickly flash in corresponding technique, with a red, white and blue array. White smoke begins filling up through the ventilators, further building up anticipation. After the brief delay to cause suspense, the debuting supestars emerges from turnel and bursts through the curtains. Royce, is concealed in a red, white and blue hooded robe, with his hands heavily taped. Jumping from side to side, Royce quickly shoots back his robe, revealing a face with the personification of determination and confidence. Grinning smugly, Royce begins shadowboxing, before strutting down to ringside.

Colin Jennings: "And here is the much anticipated debut of Rolls Royce. He talks a big game, but can he back it up tonight?"

Big Al: "He'll have as big a test as all against Barta Bull. If he can get the win today, he may truly live it up to his monikers!"

Royce reaches the stairs and climbs them in rhythmical fashion, each foot hitting the steel at the right time, causing his hooded gown to flap in the atmosphere behind him. As he reaches the step, Royce swipes his feet across the top stair, and motions for his Lynol Baxter to assist him. His manager quickly climbs the apron before lifting up the ropes, allowing Royce to step in between. Sliding out of his boxing rope, the Philadelphian tosses his arms into the air, and quickly locks eyes with his opponent, who doesn't seem to enthralled by the pre-entrance shenanigans.

As the lights suddenly return to their normal fixure, and Dipset's song becomes a distant memory in the minds of the spectators, the two superstars continue to match eye contact, only waiting for the chiming of the bell so that they can match strenght and wits and determine who's is the superior.

TBC

[bloodinstone]

ALL OF THE LIGHTS!!!

With two of the three pieces of this puzzle in place, all that remains is the arrival of James Best, otherwise known as "The Real Man's Man" to come out, who takes his time in typical villain fashion. The ‘Kanye West’ trumpets blare throughout the arena on the back of the opening announcement, ringing through the evening like a grand ceremony heralding the arrival of something great, cue the back-up vocals. The velvet curtain finally parts and James Best appears in full blood-red wrestling attire, wasting no time in striking his pose with both arms up high at an upwards angle as the camera revolves around him.

Ladies and gentlemen… welcome to Jamesville!

Certainly one of the more talented young guns to appear in recent weeks, James Best is as unpredictably dangerous as he is annoyingly arrogant, Fuzz. It is going to be interesting to see how he fares against not one but TWO opponents this evening at Blood Runs Cold.

Very interesting, then again James Best is the greatest Japanese name I’ve ever heard! Instant win!

Smugly applauding as he makes his way to the ring, James Best pumps himself up and runs his hand across the fans around him, whether they want his hi-fives or not. Shifting from boot to boot from the ringside as he burns a hole into both of his opponents’ foreheads, Best talks some ‘better than you’ smack, inaudible by the microphones before making an immediate bolt inside the ring and is set upon by both his opponents at once!

HERE WE GO! RING THE BELL!!

DING DING DING!!!

[Public Enemies]

The trio of competitors scout each other. The group rotates in a clockwise direction.

"And then there were three."

Rolls Royce and James Best meet each other in the center of the ring, while Barta Bull remains in the corner resting against a turnbuckle.

"Looks like Bull's gonna sit this one out for awhile, eh Al?"

Royce and Best both turn their attention to Barta Bull. They storm the corner-turnbuckle and unleash a torrent of strikes upon him.

"Bull's plan has failed and Best and Royce are relentless!"
"This looks like a good strategy to me, Al. Take out the biggest competitor first."

Defenseless, Barta Bull sinks to the mat. Best and Royce continue the punishment with endless Mudhole Stomps.

"How is that fair? Two against one?"
"That's just the nature of the match."

James Best pulls on Rolls Royce's red, white, and blue stripes and swings him in between the ropes and is flung out of the ring.

"Whoa!"
"Come back soon, Rolls Royce!"

Best picks up Barta Bull from the mat and leads him to center-ring. With Bull still hunched over, Best pulls out Bull's near arm. With a moment's hesitation, Best delivers a violent kick straight to the abdomen of Barta Bull. The boot-to-the-gut echoes throughout the arena.

"What an impact!"

Best finishes Bull with skull-crushing DDT.

"Looks to me like James Best knows exactly what he's doing tonight."
"I agree here, Colin."

Rolls Royce scales the apron and slides into the ring under the bottom ropes. Best meets Royce in the center of the ring and they exchange punches. Best betters Royce with a quick-kick directly to Royce's thigh.

"Ouch! That's going to sting!"

Royce hobbles and rests against the ropes. Best gives chase and pursues Royce to the ropes.

Best turns Royce to face the ropes and chokes him with the top rope. The referee tries to peel Best's hands off of Royce.

"C'mon! Let him go!"
"1, 2, 3, 4, ...."

Best releases Royce's neck from the rope and his neck slingshots back down to the mat with authority.

"Great momentum run for James Best in his debut."
"Don't get too ahead of yourself, Al."
"You seem quiet, Sabrina."

Best returns to center-ring meet a brute-force clothesline from Barta Bull.

"A moment's hesitation too soon for James Best."
"This is exactly what Barta Bull needs to do right now. He's got enough separation to make this a one-on-one fight."

Bull hoists Best's legs and attempts to tuck the right leg into the left kneepit and lock in the Texas Cloverleaf...

"Bull's going for a quick ending!"

but Best struggles out of the hold and knocks Barta Bull back into the turnbuckle with a quick-kick to the face.

"Close call there for James Best! That wouldn't be a pretty predicament for your first loss!"


(TBCD)

[Rolls Royce]

-Barta Bull quickly shakes the cobwebs after being faced with opposition by James Best. After gathering himself in the corner, the behemoth makes his way back to Best's position, looking to continue his gameplan and go to work on his smaller adversary. As Barta comes forward, Best springs to a vertical base before lowering his shoulder and diving forward, lunging his shoulder blade into Bull's abdominal region, suppressing his efforts and effectively slowing him down. After rising back to his feet, Best furthe forces the issue, plunging his boot into the gut of the El Toro De El Paso. Quickly seizing his wrist, James slings Barta Bull across the ring. As he rebounds from the Irish Whip, James manuevers into the center of the ring before hunkering over, giving Bull a window of opportunity he quickly seizes. Without a moment's hesitation, Barta hastily swings his legs up, blasting Best in the button and forcing him to lean upward. With his foe reeling and dazed, Barta staggers back into the ropes, using them to build momentum. As they throw him forward, Barta chages straight at his opponent. With the possibility of dodging the locomotive slight at best, James once agian lowers his shoulder, coercing Barta across them before hoisting him into the air. Having used the big man's momentum against him, James suddenly rolls forward, thrusting the returning Barta Bull into the canvas with aggression, whilst dropping his entire frame across his body.

Big Al: "Rolling Fireman's Carry Slam. Barta Bull just got pancaked into the canvas!'
Colin Jennings: "Impressive move by James Best, one of our bright young stars. Can he capitilize off it now, is another question!"
Sabrina. "He wont!"
Big Al: "Well you got your answer Colin! "

-As the supine Barta Bull begins to stir, James suddenly makes a bee-line for the ropes. Before he can bounce off the cables, his feet are pulled out from under him, as the crafty and cunning Rolls Royce makes his presence felt. Having stifled Best's offence, the self proclaimed Greatest commences to jerk him out of the ring, causing him to freefall face first into the lightly padded surface below. For now James Best had become an isolated variable, leaving the vulnerable Barta Bull an easy target for the Philadelphian.

Royce grapples Barta's head in a slow, meticulous fashion, before blasting him in the chin with a vicious forearm shot that threatens to realign his jaw. The European Uppercut sends Bull stumbling in a daze, allowing the Natural Disaster to take to the air. Bringing his legs inward, Royce holds that position before extending him at the very last moment, burying his boots into the sternum of his foe, expelling air from Barta's lungs subsequently sending the Texan into the corner. Rising back to his feet, Royce sees this as an oppotune time to finish off the battered bruiser. After taking a brief moment to contemplate his next attack, Rolls charges in like a bat out of hell. It turns out to be a poor decision, and the repurcusisons come in the form of a well placed elbow. Having been denied and rejected, Rolls is left stunned, giving Barta an opportunity to recover and go on the offensive. He does just that, dashing out of the corner with a full head of steam and swinging his near arm in a wild fashion. The Clothesline fails to meet its mark however, as Rolls evasively rolls forward. His momentum carries him toward the corner, where he quickly scales to the second level. After balancing himself, the debuting Philadelphian turns and leaps from the mountain's summit.

With The Urban Legend soaring toward him, Barta quickly reclines backward, while simultaneously locking his underneath and around Roll's armpits. As he meets the canvas, the Texan releases, sending the loudmouthed superstar overhead, where he lands spine first into the canvas.

"Belly To Belly Suplex from Barta Bull. What a counter!"
"That could've spelled the end for El Toro De El Paso had Royce connected..."
"But he didn't. And now Royce will found out what happens when your alone with a Bull in a china shop!"

Turning over, Barta slowly drapes his arm over Royce's chest, looking for the pinfall; it would give him his first taste of victory since his return, and would hand Royce his first loss.

"1!"

"2!"

-Unfortunately for Barta, that would not transpire, as Royce rolls a shoulder over, breaking up the pinfall attempt. Barta Bull is not discouraged by his failure however, as he climbs back to a vertical base before seizing the Philadelphian by his large afro. Clenching his fist and gritting his teeth, Barta shoots a right hand into the forehead of his foe, dizziyng the dazzling dynamo and causing his knees to buckle. The Texan follows up with a stiff knee to the midsection, leaving Royce doubled over and cringing in agony. Leaning him against the ropes, Barta suddenly tugs him forward, launcing him across the ring. With the tables turned, Rolls momentum is halted by James Best, who exacts retribution, slamming his knee into Royce's spine, just as he began to turn.

Seeing as his adversary won't come to him, Barta brings his powerful embrace to Royce, as he races straight for the groggy Philadelphian. Just when it seemed it seemed Royce was about have his lights cut off, the young stud circumvents the attack, rolling to the side, forcing Barta to collide with Best, sending him flying off the apron and into the barricade. Barta leans over on the ropes for a moment to regather his bearings, giving Rolls all the time he needs to recuperate himself and get into an offensive position. As Barta turns, Rolls leaps into the air, quickly grasping Barta's head before tucking his knees inward. As falls supinely to the canvas, he generously gives the Texan a facelist, as he coerces Barta's face into his knees and stuns him in the process.

The befuddled Barta Bull staggers into the ropes due to the Double Knee Facebreaker. The cables don't hold him at bay however, as they push him forward into cold, calculated embrace of Philly's finest. Rolls quickly locks Barta's swollen head in a front facelock, before hooking his near leg with his free arm. While strategically wrapping his legs around Barta's far, Royce falls backward, dragging Barta off his feet and drilling his cranium straight into the canvas with a resounding thud.

"They say big things come in a small pacakages... what a Piledriver!"
"What a turn of events. And he's got his legs hooked for the pinfall!"
"James' meddling may have caused Barta the match. Had it not been for him lurking on the apron, Barta would have never collided with him."
"Be that as it may, he did!"
"And we can be mere moments away from the beginning of greatness!"

"1!"

"2!"